


Does He Love You? (Part Two)

by trash_salad



Series: Pink Socks and Backflips [2]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Alcoholism, F/F, Lesbian Sex, No pregnancy kink, emotional issues, pregnancy mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2016-10-04
Packaged: 2018-08-19 11:47:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8205410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trash_salad/pseuds/trash_salad
Summary: Waverly has deviated from the script. What are the stage directions now? Can Nicole and Wynonna follow along?The second in the Pink Socks and Backflips series. Please read part one in order for this to make sense.





	

**Author's Note:**

> What a damn undertaking this has been! It's truly been a work of love, and the comments have been super supportive and inspiring.  
> Like I hinted at earlier, this fic series is inspired by a Rilo Kiley song, particularly a few choice lyrics from Does He Love You? I'll add them in the bottom of the fic notes. Do me a favor and listen to the song, but only after you've finished this. It's a beautiful little song. I don't think Jenny Lewis will ever mind me gaining inspiration from five or so choice lyrics from this song which is only vaguely related to the plot of this story. 
> 
> Also a glorious credit to my terrible beta Sensitive_pigeon, who only gets the beta title because she snarkily told me "it's" should be "its" upon reading my first draft, like the smart ass she is. If you haven't already, and you're not a lil scaredy cat, go read her fic Get Lost, which is fantastic. No, I won't stop kissing her ass. You can't make me. 
> 
> As always, find me on tumblr @trashsalad.

            Wynonna woke up just in time to see the sun inch its way above the horizon. The morning light seemed to illuminate the welcome sign to Purgatory, and she let out a long dramatic yawn, her arms stretching out far enough to cross into the personal space of the old man who sat two seats to the left of her. The man gripped his cane and said nothing, but gave her a look that she easily ignored.

            Checking her phone, she saw a text from Waverly arrived as soon as she had gotten into a service area. The smiley face ended with nearly fifty parenthesis, and took up enough of her screen that she had to scroll to get to the bottom. She smiled just as the bus squealed to a stop just outside the bus station, and she walked out to retrieve her meager bag of belongings from the side storage of the large greyhound bus.

            She ignored the slight tremor in her hands and the itch in her throat. She knew what they meant, but she needed to see Waverly. When she had her dark green duffle bag slung over her shoulder, she pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed her sister’s cellphone. She hoped she’d answer this time. She wondered if her sister was ready for her arrival. Most of all, she was curious why Waverly hadn’t been home when she called. Waverly hadn’t called her back, just texted her that smiley face. The lack of a phone call from a girl she’d always known couldn’t resist chattering out every thought that came to her head was an immediate warning sign something wasn’t right.

            “Wyn?” Came the answer.

            “Hey baby girl. I’m at the bus stop. Any chance I could hitch a ride?” She could hear a shuffle in the background, and a few hurried whispers. She raised an unkempt eyebrow, listening silently.

            “You’re already here? I was expecting a couple of days.”

            “Yeouch! Warm family welcome, Waverly. Well to be fair, I didn’t give you much of a warning. I was right outside of Colorado state limits when I called you. We were at a stop in Garden City, and I was hankering so bad it was either call you at 6 in the morning or punch the old guy sitting next to me. You know how that goes.” The man she spoke of conveniently passed by Wynonna as she said this, and he turned to look at her. She shrugged at him with a smile, and took a cross legged seat at a bench just outside the station.

            Waverly didn’t know how that went, but went along with it. Nicole looked at the smaller woman imploringly as Waverly gathered her house keys and purse. She looked like she was going somewhere, but as she didn’t have a vehicle, Nicole figured it’d be up to her to offer a ride.

            “We going somewhere?” She said under her breath as Waverly continued to talk on the phone. Waverly nodded to her quickly.

            “Picking my sister up at the bus terminal on Gracen Street. That’s okay, right?” She didn’t need to ask.

            “Who are you talking to?” Wynonna asked her sister.

            “Wynonna, some things have changed since you talked to me a few months ago. We’re gonna need to—you’re gonna have a lot of questions.” Waverly said nervously.

            Wynonna let out a chuckle as her sister hurriedly made goodbyes and hung up the phone. A small part of her hoped that Champ got his head kicked off by a bull or something, but she figured she’d never been that lucky in the past, so maybe Waverly was pregnant with twins or something.

            When the unrecognizable dark green Ford pulled up, and Waverly got out with a tall red headed stranger in tow, Wynonna _did_ have a lot of questions.

            “Where’s rodeo boy?” Was the first one. The two women gave each other a communicative glance, quick and definitely not unnoticed by Wynonna.

            “Honestly? I don’t really know at this point.” Waverly answered. Wynonna hefted the heavy bag into the stranger’s truck bed, and climbed into the back seat of the extended cab without much more than an impassive shrug. Nicole watched this with confusion on her face, and Waverly merely held up a hand as if to suggest she’d explain it later. They’d talked about her sister in the vaguest of terms in the past few months, but Waverly didn’t really go into detail about just how off the wall Wynonna really was.

            “Ah, well good riddance. I was hoping he’d fuck off. Terrible timing, what with you being knocked up with his spawn and all, but I can’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Where we going, Ginger Rogers?”

            It took a moment for Nicole to register that Wynonna was addressing her, and she started up the truck engine and began to roll out of the parking lot.

            “I’m assuming back to Waverly’s house, right?” Nicole asked. Waverly simply nodded, fiddling nervously with the seatbelt.

            “Or we could go back to the old homestead.” Wynonna suggested from the back seat. Waverly tensed at the thought.

            “I haven’t been there in years, Wynonna. I don’t even have a key.” They came to a red light, giving Wynonna a chance to inch between the two front bucket seats, holding out her necklace, which incidentally had a key on the end of it.

            “Good thing I’ve got this one, then. Ginger, go straight down this road and hit 657 after a few more lights. It’s on the right. I’ll tell you when you get to the front gate.” Nicole’s eyes flickered over to Waverly, who had her hand on her stomach, jaw tense yet not saying a word otherwise. With a weary sigh, she followed Wynonna’s instructions.

            The estate was in a lot better condition than Waverly expected. She had a slight suspicion her Aunt Gus might have known Wynonna was coming back before she did. She couldn’t suppress the eye roll that came with the thought.

            Gus didn’t approve of Waverly and Champ’s marriage from the minute she showed her the ring. She’d refused to go to the courthouse when they signed the paperwork, insisting real marriage meant ceremony and family, not some cheap signature in front of a judge. When Curtis died, and Waverly felt so uncomfortable in Gus’ presence that Champ suggested she not go to the funeral at all, it put a wedge between the both of them that felt insurmountable. She wondered if she could somehow make amends with her, current situation now being what it was.

            “Let’s take a looksee inside, shall we?” Wynonna said, eagerly climbing out of the truck a second after Nicole managed to put it into park.

            The inside smelled stale, but practically untouched since the last time Waverly had been in there. Nicole walked around as if she were memorizing every detail of the house Waverly and her sisters had grown up in. Wynonna went to the couch and struck the cushion with an open palm, coughing dramatically as a huge cloud of dust streamed into the air.

            “This place needs some work, but it’s livable.” She said between coughs. Nicole looked at her incredulously.

            “This place is probably infested with black mold.” She remarked. Wynonna turned to look at her, her eyes flashing dangerously.

            “Just who are you, exactly?”

            “Nicole Haught. I’m a friend of your sister’s.” She held her hand out, and Wynonna slapped it like a sideways high five.

            “Waverly having friends? That’s novel. Last friend she had was Chrissy Nedley, and we all know how that went.” Wynonna laughed, ignoring Waverly’s answering glare. She shrugged before sneaking a glance up the stairway toward their rooms. “This place is untouched since the nineties. Gives me the creeps.” At that point Waverly began to feel uneasy.

            “The sheriff’s daughter?” Nicole asked aloud. Both girls ignored her.

            “Can we go now?” Anxiety was obvious in Waverly’s tone.

            “Yeah, I guess. I was hoping to crash here, but this place needs work. Not to mention it gives me the heebie jeebies.” Wynonna grumbled with a dramatic shudder. She winked over at Nicole, who made a face. “So back to your house then, I guess.” She continued.

Waverly gave a tentative look at Nicole, whose face didn’t dare give away any expression.

            “Actually, I’ve been staying with Nicole.” She admitted. Wynonna looked surprised, unable to hide it.

            “Really? Is Champ at the house?”

            “No.”

            “Then why?”

            “It’s a bit complicated, Wynonna.” Waverly’s tone was defensive, and Wynonna, perhaps not wanting to fight her baby sister so soon after returning home, let it go.

            “I guess I could find a room at the motel off Eastland Avenue. They don’t like me too much though.”

            “Room 13 right?”

            “It’s probably a good thing I’ve got small feet. The hole in the wall would’ve been much bigger if I was a size 10 or something.”

            Nicole watched these two go on, feeling her patience run thin. She checked her watch; it was well past time for her morning dose. She tried to focus on anything but how restless she felt. Her fingers rubbed against the fabric of her jeans in measured strokes. Once, twice. The girls continued to argue, their voices reduced to a mere hum against the anxious thoughts that began their tirade. A tiny part of her was thankful she didn’t have to work today. When she got the chance to finally take her medicine, she’d likely crash and it would be hours before she felt back to normal.

            “You ready to go?” Waverly said suddenly. Nicole’s thoughts snapped back like a rubber band against her wrist.

             “What?” She replied before she could stop it.

            “You feeling alright, Ginger? You look pale as hell. That’s saying a lot.” Wynonna supplied. Nicole gripped her right hand until it went numb.

            “I’m fine. You decide on a place to stay?” Nicole said, trying her best to keep her voice calm and even. Wynonna’s eyes widened just a fraction, but she didn’t comment.

            “I’m gonna stay with an ex while I’m here. I don’t want to be stuck with a bill for drywall. I feel the ol’ bitch that runs the hotel probably has it framed for me if I ever get the nerve to go and ask for a room.” Wynonna looked pleased with herself. Waverly looked a bit unsure.

            “Okay then. Do you need a ride?” Nicole asked, already feeling her jaw begin to ache. She felt exhausted and wired at the same time. Her joints were beginning to hurt and she felt so restless she could scream.

            “I’m good, Officer.” Wynonna said, saluting sarcastically. Nicole’s confusion was evident.

            “How’d you—“

            “You think by now I can’t spot a cop from fifty yards? You guys have that way about you. I figured either ex military or police, maybe both.” Nicole clenched her teeth, withdrawal beginning to unsettle her.

            “Alright then. Waverly, you have work today?”

            “Annie’s is closed on Wednesdays, remember?” Waverly supplied. Nicole looked frayed around the edges, and it was beginning to make her nervous. She’d never seen her like this. She took a few tentative steps toward her and laid a hand on her arm. Nicole sighed. “You okay? You look ill.” She asked.

            “Let’s just… go back to my apartment.” Nicole replied quietly. Wynonna was already calling the ex and distracted. “Nice to meet you, Wynonna.” She said loud enough to catch the girl’s attention. She got a thumbs up in return.

            The ride back to the apartment was silent. Waverly was worried, glancing over repeatedly at Nicole who seemed to be using all of her energy to focus on driving. She noticed her posture was stiff, and every other minute she’d let out a long breath of air that it appeared she’d been holding. She hoped it wasn’t anything her sister had done, but this was so undeniably out of character for Nicole that she knew there must be something different going on.

            When they got back to the apartment, she watched Nicole open her kitchen cabinet to retrieve a prescription bottle. She tried to be as impassive as possible, but her curiosity was making it difficult. The woman’s slumped shoulders gave off an impression of defeat, and she walked to the fridge to grab a bottle of water to wash the unnamed pill down with silently. She did so, and placed the bottle back where it came from. She braced her hands on the counter top, leaned her head forward and sighed.

            “I’m sorry about that.” Nicole said, breaking the awkward silence.

            “It’s not my business, Nicole. It’s okay.” The taller woman turned to her, eye contact difficult to maintain.

            “I honestly should’ve told you about it a long time ago. I’ve just… you’ve got a lot going on, and I didn’t really know how you’d react.”

            “React to what?”

            “I’m bipolar. That’s my stabilizer. I just got so distracted with everything I forgot to take it. The withdrawals are pretty—they’re hell on earth.” She admitted. Waverly couldn’t understand why the woman seemed so ashamed of this admission. She looked near tears. Immediately Waverly wrapped her arms around Nicole, squeezing the other woman’s midsection. The once tense body under her arms seemed to go immediately lax with relief.

            “What would ever make you think that I’d judge you for taking medication, Nicole?” She felt lips brush against the crown of her head.

            “It’s kind of a reflex, honestly. I should know better. You’re literally an angel.”

            “I need to tell you a bit about Wynonna. Then you can tell me about this, if you want.”

            “Okay.” Waverly pulled away reluctantly. She took a seat on Nicole’s couch a few yards away. “Just warning you, if I get a little drowsy, it’s a side effect. It’s not because you’re boring.”

            Waverly’s eyes crinkled with her sincere smile. She playfully pushed at the other woman before she began to talk about her sisters and just what had happened at her childhood home before Nicole ever came to Purgatory.

            Talking about Willa was the hardest part. Seventeen year olds shouldn’t die the way she did, but she took her father’s death the hardest. He was cruel to both Wynonna and Waverly, but never to her. When he’d beat Wynonna within an inch of her life the day after her fifteenth birthday, the girl had enough. She took her father’s prized dueling pistol, she one he’d polished almost obsessively, and swung it only to serve as a threat. The fact that it was loaded never occurred to any of them. The bullet was in the chamber unseen if you looked in the barrel. He had slapped a hand over hers, inadvertently cocking the pistol. As he whipped her across the room, Wynonna pulled the trigger. Waverly still remembered, even as a ten year old child, she sound his body made as he fell to the floor in a heap. She doesn’t want to think about whether she did it on purpose. What that meant. In the end, it didn’t make much difference.

            Wynonna was sent to court, sentenced to psychiatric treatment, and developed a worse drinking problem when she left. Willa hung herself on the one year anniversary of her father’s death from a large rafter in the barn. Gus had found her. Waverly didn’t know much of the details until she was older. She’d been only eleven at the time.

            “Was the funeral hard for you?” Nicole had asked, rubbing her right eye as the drowsiness came on.

            “It was too easy. It was the guilt that came later that was hard. Feeling the wrong emotions in all the wrong ways. I was too young to understand that. Guilt’s kind of run my life, now that I think about it.” Waverly reached out with her hand to rub the side of Nicole’s cheek gently. Nicole looked down almost shyly.

            “I love you, Waverly. It might be a little too early, but I do.” Nicole admitted. She swallowed, her eyes feeling heavy. The smaller girl got up from the couch with a bit of effort, and kissed Nicole on the forehead.

            “You should sleep. Come on.”

            They walked to the bed, and Nicole tiredly stripped her shirt and pants off. She pulled on a pair of sleeping shorts and a ratty tshirt, and climbed into bed with Waverly. Waverly happily let her curl up to her. Nicole fell asleep after a few minutes, as the other woman ran her fingers over her long hair, rubbing her scalp and thinking about her sister.

            “Of course I love you Nicole.” She mumbled quietly to the sleeping woman in her arms. “I’d be a fool if I didn’t.”

            Wynonna constantly lived in fear that didn’t make sense. The alcohol had been what kept her from being afraid. Without it she felt like she had no limbs. Her inability up to this point to function without it was what kept her coming back to it.

            In therapy, she’d frustrated many a medical professional with the pure stubbornness she showed every time they tried to prove to her she wasn’t the murderer she knew she was. They’d tell her it was an accident, and she’d laugh. She wanted to kill her father, she’d wanted to since he’d first grabbed her by the head and thrown her on the ground. She could never be sure after all those years if she’d pulled that trigger on purpose. It was why she isolated herself. Looking down at the slender man who slept off their earlier sex almost innocently sent a twitch of guilt running right through her. She always felt rage, simmering slowly beneath the surface. How could anyone be stupid enough to trust her? Every time she’d raise her voice, every time she’d gotten too stupid on Wild Turkey to even think straight, she’d think to herself how easy it would be for the people in her presence to get hurt. It wasn’t ever born from a desire to kill, but a fear. It wasn’t ever what she wanted. She just knew she was capable of it, and it terrified her.

            “Doc?” She asked, frightful. He didn’t stir. She felt her teeth grind. Thoughts buzzed around her like gnats in a hayfield. She twitched, trying to phase it out. It was harder without alcohol to numb her mind. Sobriety made every thought in her head crystal clear, including her own subsequent self-served castigation.  

            She pulled her knees up to her chest, wanting to drink so bad she could rip her own throat out. The tremors always served to remind her of her weakness. She felt cold and nauseous. She thought of Waverly and her unborn child. How desperately she wanted to earn a place in both of their lives. Before she’d arrived, she’d called Gus from a payphone, too scared to give the woman a chance to get back in touch so easily. It was four am and she had wanted to drink, and she cried alone at that gas station with only fifty dollars in her pocket that she’d gotten from a man who fucked her too roughly for it to have ever been enough. She told her she was coming home, and not to tell Waverly anything—that she’d do it herself. The older woman didn’t say much, just breathed loud enough for her to hear and said a simple ‘Okay’ after she’d struggled out the words she needed to say.

Later, when she’d checked her bank balance online at an internet café out of pure curiosity, there was a cash transfer to her account with a note that said “Bus Ticket” next to enough money for a fare and a bit more. She had stared at that number so long she suspected it might have been a hallucination. She’d quickly made arrangements on a Greyhound website and printed it out for ten cents. She had enough money left over at the time for food and a burner phone. The one that she had in her pocket now.

            She got up and walked to Doc’s grimy kitchenette in the trailer. Poured herself a glass of tepid tap water and drank it. It didn’t quench her thirst in the least, but she drank four glasses—enough to fill her stomach. The thoughts still chirped endlessly, but she was distracted enough to ignore them for now. She tried coping techniques that she’d usually never bothered to use before. Deep breaths in…then out. A few more times for good measure. The desire to drink wasn’t gone, but she did feel her heart slow down some. A blessing she’d take over nothing.

            She was glad to be home but scared of the memories this little town brought up. She thought maybe she’d suggest to Waverly they go visit Willa’s grave tomorrow, but she was a bit hesitant. The thought made her feel uneasy. She was well aware of the way Willa used to gang up on her younger sister. Growing up it never made sense to her. Waverly was the quiet child, so kind and reserved. Ward never laid a hand on her, just acted like she didn’t exist. His abuse was psychological, while Wynonna had the benefit of the back of his hand. She didn’t envy Waverly, though. She knew that her sister spent her whole life being invisible. Hell, she married that fucker Champ because he was practically the only person in this town who bothered to see her at all, even if it was in the wrong way.

            She thought about the woman who her sister brought with her today. She was a very solid presence; Wynonna didn’t need to be around Nicole long to immediately notice just how dependable and secure she was. The confidence in the way she walked on earth was the first thing she noticed. She hadn’t said anything to her sister, but she knew immediately that this Nicole practically worshipped Waverly. It wasn’t in the words she said, but in the way she looked at Waverly like she was perhaps lined with gold. It wasn’t a possessive thing, however, not like the way Champ looked at her. No, the red headed woman looked at Waverly like she was blessed to be around her. Wynonna smiled crooked at the thought. She hoped her instincts were right, and Waverly took this friend as the blessing she needed. She didn’t know the full story, but if Champ really was gone, she’d need all the friends she could get.

            She did notice that Nicole was a bit pale and jumpy, but she ignored her initial thought that perhaps Nicole was recovering too. It seemed out of character for a girl that straight laced to be an addict. Though, after years of being around addicts from all corners of life, she could be wrong. She blinked a bit at the thought. It didn’t seem her place to even think about. She trusted Waverly’s judgement. God knows she wasn’t in the place to even have an opinion to begin with.

            Wynonna looked over to the dingy clock over in the corner. It read three in the afternoon. The sun wasn’t in the sky, so that meant his clock was way off. She put the plastic cup back in the sink, and walked back to bed. She’d ask Waverly when she got up again.

            “How do you feel?” Waverly asked, as the girl in her arms began to awaken that afternoon.

            “A bit embarrassed, honestly.” Nicole answered honestly. Waverly craned her head to the side, smile on her face and eyebrows raised.

            “What?” The girl chuckled, “Why?” Nicole sat up, and Waverly released her from her arms.

            “It’s not too often I’m held in someone’s arms like this. I’m usually doing the—“

            “Holding? Awfully butch of you, Nicole.” Waverly laughed, while Nicole shot her a playful glare.

            “Very funny, though I think you might be a little too accurate with that, honestly.” Nicole stretched a bit, sitting up. Waverly was still in the clothes she’d had when she’d first fallen asleep.

            “Have you been laying with me this whole time?” Nicole asked, her voice tender.

            “I might’ve dozed off a few times, but yeah. I didn’t really want to move, and now I have to pee really bad.” Waverly said with a cringe. Nicole helped her up, laughing slightly.

            “Go pee then! You don’t need my permission!” The younger girl ran off to the bathroom immediately with steps light and carefree.

            Nicole had never felt so loved, though she did remember how she’d told Waverly how she felt without a response in kind. It didn’t bother her as much as maybe one would expect. It was soon for her to say it, but she had to—it’d been pressing on her conscience for too long. She knew that the other girl felt the same; it wasn’t even a question in her mind. She’d say it when she was ready.

            When Waverly returned, her phone went off. It was Wynonna.

            “Hey, Wyn. You okay?” Waverly asked as soon as she got up. Wynonna was wondering if they could spend some time together today. Of course they could. It made Waverly a bit sad she had to ask. Waverly’s eyes flicked over to Nicole, who was trying her best not to look curious. “Mind if Nicole comes along?” The laugh on the other end gave her the answer. It was loud enough that even Nicole could hear it. She grinned, already beginning to like Wynonna, even though she was a bit unusual. Feeling welcomed was nice. It was a feeling she didn’t even know she’d craved.

            “Do you want to change, Waverly?” Nicole asked. Waverly looked down and shrugged.

            “I didn’t bring much more than one more pair of jeans and a shirt. We’ll have to go back to the house to get the rest of it.”

            “So that’s... you’re done with the house?” Nicole didn’t want to betray the relief that she felt at the idea Waverly wasn’t going anywhere. It was an odd thought to have, but she felt lighter somehow.

            “I’m not even on the deed. It was one of Champ’s father’s investment houses. My place is here with you, Nicole. I mean—if you want me to be, that is.” Waverly hedged around the idea, a bit nervous. Nicole took her in her arms and kissed her, passion and love evident in the way their lips met. Wooden bird puzzles, came the thought to Waverly’s head.

            “Mrs. Johnson’s gonna miss me.” Waverly said when they parted.

            “Who?” Nicole asked, confused.

            “My nosey neighbor. She always used to ask me how you were doing when I’d see her out walking her poodle. I never quite figured out why. She knew I was married to Champ, but she’d ask about you, and your job, like you were my wife. Never asked me once about him.”

            “She sounds hilarious.” Nicole said with a smirk. “Maybe she knew something you didn’t.”

            “You’re an idiot, Nicole.” Waverly said before groaning a bit and rubbing at her back. “Anyone ever tell you pregnancy sucks?”

            “I’ve heard a few complaints over the years, yes.” Nicole agreed with a chuckle.

            “I’m gonna try to bathe. Thank god you have a bathtub.” Waverly said with a sigh.

            Nicole watched Waverly gather clothes and head to the bathroom, waddling just a slight bit down the hallway. She sighed, rubbing at her eyes. She really sometimes wondered why she always went for a challenge in life. Of course Waverly was hardly a burden, but anyone with sense would tell her the upcoming months were possibly going to be hell. Somehow, it didn’t seem to phase her. The idea of Waverly, her child, and _her sister_ , all coming into her life either now or in a matter of months seemed insane to her. When she moved to this small town to escape her life before it was the last thing she ever expected. Then Nedley wanted her to get him strawberry donuts on a slow day at work, and well, here we are.

            She made herself a quick bowl of cereal, and poured skim milk, her mind thinking of the past she ran away from. She had told Waverly something huge about herself that as of right now only her psychiatrist and her pharmacist had any awareness of, but despite its weight, it was a tiny corner of the picture of her life that she’d successfully kept obscured in the half year she’d been here. She thought of her parents that she hadn’t talked to since she was kicked out shortly after graduation. She thought of the nights she spent couch surfing at friends houses, how her own family acted like they didn’t even know who she was. It was an uncle, one she hadn’t seen since she was six years old, that finally saved her.

She had gotten curious one night on a friend’s computer, and searched for his information on the internet. It took six incorrect numbers before she got a hold of him. Harrison Haught was thankfully not a super common name in Zanesville, Ohio. She was lucky he even lived in the same town he lived in. He answered the phone when she called him that night, and managed to remember her. She didn’t know much about him except for the fact her family refused to even mention him anymore. That gave her the first inkling of hope that he’d understand her position.

“Nicole? The tiny little thing with that carrot top hair and the ability to scrape herself on Styrofoam? Yeah, I remember you. You’re big now! I suspect I know why you’re calling, as much as it pains me so.” Nicole had felt her chest seize, her stomach flipping. She leaned forward, a bundle of the landline’s cord in her fist.

“I told them I was gay and they kicked me out.” There was a pause on the other end, and she felt ill enough to hang up right then.

“Sounds about right. Well, if you’ll give me more info, I might have something better than a couch for you in Zanesville. Not much better, I’ll warn you. I’m talking inflatable, queen sized, and on a floor.” He had a humor to him that made her suspect he wasn’t a Haught after all, but an imposter.

“I’ll take it.” She said with a sniffle.

 

            Harrison, a man who was a third cousin technically but called an uncle, by all rights shouldn’t have cared even a little, loved her like a father. He had been a police officer for 35 years. He’s the man who first taught her how to shoot a pistol, and how to carry herself without fear. When she started showing signs of mania, and would disappear for hours on end and call him on the other side of town confused and crying, he’d pick her up, take her home, and let her sleep it off. He set the appointment for a psychiatrist after the third or so time this happened, and she was diagnosed with Bipolar I.

            He got the diagnosis of brain cancer about two years before she came to Purgatory. It was so rapid, the way it progressed— one month he was driving her to her doctor’s appointments, and the next month he couldn’t eat on his own anymore. He died on a Sunday at sunrise in a specialized cancer hospital in the city. In a moment of lucidity, he turned to her and asked her to open the window blinds.

            “A view to die for.” He joked when he saw the sky illuminated with orange and red from his bedside. She watched the sun rise as well, mouth agape. It truly was beautiful. She chuckled and turned to him, but he was already gone. His eyes were still open, as if he were still taking in the view even after he was gone. The nurses rushed in when his heart monitor signified asystole. She’d signed his DNR a week before, so it was more of a formality. It was the best way to go, she knew. Quietly, before the rest of the world could wake. Her and him, alone, against the sunrise.  

            Harrison had left her the remainder of his pension. He’d never told her why her family and he never talked. She supposed it wasn’t her business. It didn’t matter. He’d literally saved her life. Only a fool would question that type of kindness. She buried him with a larger audience of police vets than she expected. She’d put is obituary in the paper and a date and time, expecting no visitors. Yet it quickly became apparent that more people still read the Chronicle than she thought. The fact that these men and women comforted her, a distant cousin of his, like she was his child, told her that maybe he’d done a bit of bragging without her knowledge. They knew her by name, and shook her hand.

            “You gonna join the force?” They’d said. “He always told us you’d make a great detective.” It took her by surprise, but she’d smile graciously and thank them anyway. Harrison was always full of surprises.

            She got enough credits in a local junior college to apply for the police academy a few semesters later. An internet search showed a job opening in Purgatory, and she leaped at the chance. Harrison once had told her small towns were the best place to grow your legs, whatever that meant. She applied, flew over for the interview, and here she was.

            “Nicole, can you help me in here?” Came the echo of Waverly’s voice from the bathroom.

            She walked in to find Waverly in the bath, surrounded by bubbles, relaxing with a smile on her face.

            “What do you need, Waves?” Nicole asked, curious. Waverly just smiled at her.

            “Nothing. Just missed your face.” Nicole nearly blushed, rubbing her neck.

            “A bubble bath? Really? Wynonna wants you to come soon, doesn’t she?” Nicole asked, trying to distract herself from the sight in front of her.

            “Wynonna couldn’t care less about being on time. I bet she’s already fallen asleep. Come here.” Waverly said, crooking her finger toward the woman who still stood a few safe feet away, awkwardly. Nicole approached curiously.

            “Wash my hair for me?” Waverly asked, innocently. “You did such a good job last time.”

            Oh. Well, that was subtle.

            “Okay…” Nicole said, getting on her knees. She put shampoo on her hands, and put it on the other woman’s scalp. Waverly leaned forward in the tub, which exposed her breasts, something that may or may not have been on purpose.

            Nicole, perhaps trying to stay true to the thoughts she’d had not too long before this event, was attempting to stay valiant. She worked the shampoo through Waverly’s scalp, swallowing nervously at the hums of pleasure that brought her, and took a cup, and washed out the remaining soap from her hair. She went with the conditioner, and repeated the steps. When she reached for the cup, Waverly halted her.

            “Uh uh. Five minutes to soak. Read the bottle.” She was dumb struck. This woman was going to kill her.

            “Are you serious?” She said, voice cracking. Waverly turned to her—fingers wet with suds—grabbed Nicole’s free hand, and guided it to where she needed it under the surface of the bubbly water.

            Nicole complied, disbelieving yet not opposed in the least. Her fingers took to the task like they were supposed to, and she made quick work under the water, feeling slickness meet her fingers that was easily distinguishable from water. Waverly sighed, her heavy breasts rising with her deep inhales, which was just too beautiful to watch impassively. Nicole leaned forward and blew on the wet breasts before her, watching with a smile on her face at the way they tightened easily in response. Waverly shuddered, before grabbing Nicole by the neck to kiss her passionately.

            Nicole could feel the viscosity under her fingers increase, and she rubbed quick tight circles around an engorged clit. The water in the tub began to slip past the surface edges of the tub as Waverly subtly began to cant her hips in a jerky rhythm only an orgasm could supply. Quickly she came with a coarse and short cry, working her way down with tiny breaths. Nicole leaned back from the kiss, capturing Waverly’s bottom lip between her teeth.

            “Has that been five minutes?” Nicole asked, teasingly. Waverly laughed, leaning her shoulders against the tile with a happy sigh.

            They met Wynonna at the outskirts of the trailer park about an hour later. Waverly called Wynonna’s phone about three times rapid fire until her sister picked up, and she shot Nicole a ‘I told you so’ expression which just made the other woman look away to hide her smirk when Wynonna finally picked up.

            She slung open the cab door of the pick up and jumped inside, totally forgoing the seatbelt which irked Nicole a bit but she said nothing.

            Unbeknownst to Waverly, Nicole had called Nedley and requested to use some of her vacation time. She called him on the quick stop they made for gas before they got to the trailer park. Waverly was inside getting snacks when Nicole made the brief call. She cited family emergencies, when Nedley quickly burst that bubble.

            “Earp sisters, huh?” He had said with a good natured chuckle. “They’re a handful.”

            “Excuse me, sir?”

            “Small towns, Haught. Word gets around. Well, you’ve got about two days saved up in PTO, according to Brenda in HR. I think you should be fine.”

            “I appreciate it sir.” Nicole replied, a bit apprehensive.

            “Nicole?” He asked.

            “Yes, Sheriff?”

            “Do tread lightly. That’s all I’m going to say. Those girls have a history that precedes themselves.” He let out a weary sigh, indicating he meant Wynonna more than anyone else.

            “I will, Sir.”

            Nicole and the girls pulled up to the gate entrance of the cemetery and Waverly stiffened up imperceptibly. She turned to look at the other woman, but Wynonna piped in with a confusing set of directions town the twisty one lane drives that lead to Willa’s grave stone. A few wrong turns accompanied by cursing and a bit of bickering between sisters, and they were parked a few hundred yards away from Willa’s final resting place.

            Nicole looked up and watched as a hawk soared in slow circles above their heads, unnoticed by anyone but her. The bird landed on a perch, and watched them as they walked up to a small headstone with the name Willa Earp and dates of birth and death supplied underneath. ‘1988-2004’ it read, and Nicole thought back to what she was doing in 2004, insulated in her own personal hell far away from here and Waverly Earp.

            “I know it’s hard for you to be here. I just had to see her.” Wynonna said, a bit strangled by her own emotion. Waverly’s countenance was distant, and Nicole watched as she fiddled her fingers and tried to summon up anything but bitterness. Nicole, struggling to have anything worth saying, merely laid a supportive hand on the shorter woman’s shoulder. She seemed to sag under the weight of her palm.

            “I wonder what she’d think of all this. A part of me wonders if she’d have even cared.” Waverly says quietly, Wynonna safely out of ear shot, speaking her peace to a sister she knew much more than the rest of them.

            “Death doesn’t give us a chance to resolve everything.” Nicole supplied vaguely, hoping it was enough.

            “Why is it I feel that she killed herself to punish us?” Waverly choked out, turning to bury her head in Nicole’s chest. As if on instinct, strong arms wrapped around the smaller Earp, cocooning her in borrowed strength.

            Nicole tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t sound trite or placating. She couldn’t, or at least nothing came to mind. So she stayed still, holding the woman she loved, while the hawk watched from it’s place on a light post. She let go just as it flew away.

            “I’m ready now.” Wynonna said, her boots crunching on gravel and grass as she made her approach. Waverly hesitantly pulled back, turning to her sister. “Can we eat? I’m starving to fucking death here.”

            And that was that.

            It would be nice to say that many exciting things happened in the next three months, and things did occur, but with little fanfare. Champ eventually made his way back to the house; Nicole noticed the moving van outside of his and Waverly’s old home as she passed it by on a morning patrol. She switched hours with a coworker, so she could have more of a consistent day, and didn’t feel so run down. Waverly grew, healthy, hardy, and happily with child. The divorce papers came to Nicole’s apartment, though she didn’t know how Champ’s lawyer had gotten the address. The curse of a small down was also an aide. It quickly became apparent that Champ didn’t have much of a leg to stand on in the way of public opinion. While Wynonna may have been a public pariah, Waverly was well liked. She continued to work at Annie’s Antiques, which had recently—much to the grumpy elderly owner’s delight—seen an influx in customers.

            Soon a for sale sign was on the front lawn of that very house, and Nicole showed Waverly. She drove by it and pointed. It seemed to relive the other woman some.

            “Finally.” She sighed. “I hated that place. Every time we pass it, I hold my breath. Maybe some happy family will move into it and chase the ghosts out.”

            “Ghosts?” Nicole asked curiously.

            “You know, the metaphorical ghosts.” Waverly added, blushing a bit at the flair of the statement.

            “Ah. Those ghosts.”

            Waverly told Nicole she loved her one morning out of the blue. Nicole had a spoon full of cereal on the way to her mouth when she told her. She paused, looked at the other woman, whose face didn't even seem to recognize what she'd done. It was a passive statement, said after a joke.

            "You're so funny, Nicole! I love you." Nicole waited for it to dawn on the other woman. It didn't. So Nicole continued to eat her cereal.

            Wynonna hadn’t drank, which surprised her, her sister, and pretty much the entire town. She ran into a man named Xavier Dolls during a town event. He’d come into town as a personal advocate for ex veterans, passing along information pamphlets to older gentleman of veteran age who might need information on care available to those who’d served. Wynonna was half way through a corn dog when she saw him, tall muscular and with a face that clearly looked impassive, and handed her half eaten corn dog to Nicole wordlessly and wandered off in his direction. Nicole looked over at Waverly with a stupefied expression, corndog in hand.

            “Wynonna is a laser guided missile for hot dudes, Nic. I’ll eat that.” Waverly purloined the snack out of Nicole’s hand before she could get in a word edgewise. These days Waverly ate whenever she felt like it, and Nicole found it entertaining. She got very good at telling when the shorter woman was pining for food, and often made late night food runs without a single complaint.

            “I’m growing a double chin!” Waverly said, around her eighth month.

            “Lemme see.” Nicole said quickly, grabbing her girlfriend’s small head in her hands and turning it upwards to ‘investigate’, but actually just reaching her face forward to kiss her passionately. “Just what I thought,” Nicole breathed, “Gorgeous.” Waverly thought her heart couldn’t swell anymore, but the more time she spent with Nicole, the bigger her heart seemed to grow. Apple as of yet didn’t have an emoji to encapsulate the feeling.

            It was a few weeks later during an ultra sound that her OB informed her that her child would need to be born via C-Section. She’d twisted herself into a presentation that would leave her breech birthed, which obviously would cause danger if she were to deliver naturally. She looked to Nicole, holding her hand and stroking the back of Waverly’s neck distractedly, for a reaction. Nicole immediately looked down to her reassuringly.

            “You do love your rest. I don’t mind fetching things for you.” She said as gently as she could. The world of difference it made. Waverly wasn’t afraid. She felt like she had support. Then a few pregnancy models hit the ground with a crack.

            “Oops.” Wynonna remarked with a cringe.

            “Why did I allow you to come again?” Waverly groaned.

            “Moral support for news about your slice and dice?” Wynonna joked. Nicole shot a glare off, and Wynonna answered with a goofy grin.

            Dr. Anderson felt like an outsider in his own examination room for the first time in his career. He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face.

            Waverly finally got past her pride after that appointment, when the reality of a child finally became more solidified in her mind. She asked Wynonna to tell Gus she was sorry, and Wynonna quickly shot back.

            “No can do, baby girl. That’s not second hand information I can just pass on. You’re gonna need to do that yourself.”

            “What if she tells me she hates me?” Waverly replied nervously. Nicole laid a hand on the other girl’s head briefly, to reassure.

            “I really don’t think she’d ever do something like that. You’d actually be surprised. She asks about you constantly.”

            “She does?” Waverly was actually surprised. Nicole bit her tongue, but she’d been confronted by Gus one day at the station. The sprightly short haired woman had come in and politely asked if she could speak to Nicole. Not knowing her from any other stranger, she innocently approached the woman, asking her if she d could help her.

            “If you hurt Waverly, you’ll have not only Wynonna, but me to answer to as well.” The woman said calmly, before smiling and shaking her hand.

            “Gus.”

            “Ah.” Nicole merely replied. “An honor.” That’s when the other woman had let her into her plan. The plan to gain Waverly’s forgiveness. She could do nothing but oblige. Well—oblige, and fib about her work schedule in order to do some major home renovation behind her girlfriend’s back.

            All she could do was hope Waverly wouldn’t mind. It just depended on one thing, which she couldn’t be sure of. That she could find it in her heart to forgive the woman who only wanted the best for her.  

 

(Stay tuned for Part Three)

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics I was inspired by:  
> "Get a real job, keep the wind at your back and the sun on your face.  
> All the immediate unknowns are better than knowing this tired and lonely fate."
> 
> "I guess it all worked out; there's a ring on your finger and the baby's due out.  
> You share a place by the park and run a shop for antiques downtown.  
> And he loves you, yeah he loves you, and the two of you will soon become three.  
> And he loves you, even though you used to say you were flawed if you weren't free.  
> Let's not forget ourselves, good friend. You and I were almost dead.  
> You're better off for leaving, you're better off for leaving."
> 
> "Your confession, it's coming out.  
> You only married him because you felt your time was running out."


End file.
